*Rewrtie of a fic I started a long time ago and never stopped loving. Same story, same characters, older writer.

I'm sure some people are going to be wondering why now? There's a few reasons. I've been injured for a long time, longer than is acceptable before getting treatment but that doesn't matter now because I'm finally getting help for all the side effects that came with getting a serious brain injury. I feel like I'm finally in a place that I can start taking on tasks like this again and there was no other task I wanted to finish than this. I got so far and then a lot held me back. Going back and seeing that the support never died was a good kick in the butt to finish something I love.

For anyone coming back, thank you. For anyone new, thank you as well.

If you notice any mistakes in terms of spelling or misplaced words, please tell me. It's something I've had to deal with for several years – I've gotten very good at spotting it but just in case, much obliged.

Immoral: Reawakened

Prologue

Have you ever had one of those days where you know, just know, that something terrible is waiting for you? Where the shadows lurk and press against your mind and the whole world feels heavy and stone-like. The idea of leaving your solitude is so suffocating, yet the fear of the dread pulsing through your guts makes you want to run as far as possible from the den you've created in your bed. The word anxiety somehow seems bland and tasteless and, for a moment, it's just you and the silence, and the whirlpool you can't explain raging through you.

Today was one of those days.

Maybe I should have seen it coming. It was the middle of the night and who calls with good news at three AM? My sisters had slept through the phone, something I usually would have done too, but I didn't. Maybe that should have been my second clue. Or Mama gasping from the other end of the trailer. Or the way she suddenly spoke in a whisper, like she was afraid of the words coming out of her mouth.

All I knew was the planet suddenly felt misaligned, and something was certainly, most incredibly wrong.

I was squished between May and Lee on our pull-out in the corner of the trailer. Lee was half way onto the floor, her feet on the pillow beside my head, and spine curled like a cat. May whined in her sleep as I pushed her arms away to disentangled from her grip and I tucked my pillow into her chest to keep her at bay. She immediately latched on to it and settled back down. Neither of my sisters' noticed as I crawled from out of the sheets and started towards the couch and TV we called a living room.

I did my best to be quiet. Usually Mama would give me a good tongue lashing if she saw me wandering out of bed so late. I peered around the make-shift curtain that served as a door to the back bedroom. Just a minute, I had convinced myself, and once I had this dumb feeling in my stomach all sorted I'd be back to bed before Mama or my sisters knew the difference.

The only light in the living room came from the old lamp beside the couch. It cast a shadow on Mama that left her looking worse than usual. She stood with most of her back towards me, but I could see the makings of her face and the phone cradled to her ear. She hadn't been well lately, and the ominous light being cast across her face only served to make that very clear. She leaned back on her hips and knees as she stood, holding herself with care and even through the thick nightshirt her swollen stomach was prominent. Still thick from pregnancy, her recent miscarriage had left a deflating balloon under her pyjamas.

"You're okay though, right?"

Mama's voice was hoarse. It sounded as if she were moments from sobbing but using every bit of strength not to. My stomach churned, and I hoped she wouldn't cry. Mama was strong. I'd never seen her cry before and somehow the idea of seeing it now made it all the worse.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..."

I poked my head out farther from behind the curtain as Mama turned away from me and started to shake. She wobbled on the spot, threatening to fall over onto the couch.

"What the hell do I tell the girls?"

She wasn't angry, but I nearly started to cry for her. Mama only swore when she was mad, when she couldn't control her voice enough or what she said. She let out a string of curses, the soap-in-the-mouth kind, and finally fell to the couch. She rocked her face in her hands, the phone still tucked neatly to her ear.

"What the hell do I tell Marie, Logan?"

"Dad?"

The word left my mouth before I even realized I was going to speak. Mama turned to me with wide eyes and the expression of a dying deer. She was so pale, the warm light of the lamp giving her no relief.

I stayed at the door way, curtain around my fist. I didn't know where to go, or how to move, or walk away. I just stayed and Mama made quick work of the phone, and rushed over to me. She fell to her knees and held my face in her chapped hands. They were cold and hard. Her eyes were watering and to stop myself from seeing the tears I threw myself into her shoulder. She held me for a while, sobbing gently into my neck. My skin boiled under her tears, and I simply sat, clutching at her nightshirt and waiting with my stomach in my mouth.

She pushed me away with a shove as her tears stopped. My shirt was wet and itchy with blotches of tears across my shoulders. She picked at the wet spots, looking me in the eyes with a hard stare. Her breathing was shallow and shaking with a terror I couldn't name.

"Munchkin," she muttered, and suddenly I knew it was so much worse than I could have thought, "Something's happened."

I almost rolled my eyes – of course something had happened.

"What," I murmured.

Mama sucked in a trembling breath and continued, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks again, "There was an accident. You're father's okay, but-"

The world fell in on itself. She didn't need to continue, I knew what she was going to say. My throat was tight, and my stomach churned. Then, without warning, I screamed and threw up on the floor at my mother's knees.

...-...-...-...

Some kids think of their parents meeting as a fairy tale. With once upon a times, in taverns and school dances, shortened stories of romances and marriage. Sometimes there was trouble in paradise, and morals hidden behind pretty words, but the ending was the same for those children. We lived happily ever after, and you only made it happier.

I never had such an ignorant gift.

Because once upon a time, there was a rockstar. He was cool, and handsome, and on top of the world. Everyone loved him, and sometimes, he'd love them back. Mama loved him, and he loved her. Then others loved him, and Mama still did, but he didn't love her again.

Mama said she never regretted any of it. My father wasn't who she hoped, but he gave her me and that was enough for her. For a while that was enough for me too.

Then I turned four, and he came for the first time, with a little boy trailing at his heels and holding his hand like he'd disappear if he let go. Suddenly, Mama and my sisters weren't enough, because when I looked at that little boy, and he looked back – big brown eyes just like mine, just like Dads – my home expanded past the trailer, and Mama and my sisters and it became Mama, Dad, Lee, May and Davey.

Then there was no going back.

...-...-...-...

Hospitals were never like the looming shadow from horror movies that most kids thought they were. The nurses were all real nice with pretty smiles that looked like Mamas'. I never had any trouble with the doctors; I was on a first name basis with a few. They all rolled their eyes the same, and ruffled my hair with every broken bone. They smelled nice – clean, like nail polish remover and soap.

May always pinched her nose dramatically when they got too close, and Lee seemed apathetic to the whole thing unless they were poking her with a needle. If I could, I would always take a deep breath in around them until my head spun. They smelt of comfort, and everything better.

Most people never smelt good like that. Some smelt like perfume, and that was probably the worst. It covered everything, gassy, like smoke, and took over. Others smelt like sweat and it took everything within you not to whip them with deodorant. I was even forced to deal with a teacher, often put on detention duty I swear for the very reason, who reeked of cat piss and cinnamon.

Today, the whole room smelled like blood and sweat.

The hospital cot was comically big, and swallow Davey's body whole. His lithe body was wrapped up in the thin sheets like a shield. He was shaking like a fragile twig in fall; it looked like his very movements could break his own bones. Pale and gross, he sweat as if it were his job to. In the corner, machines that looked too sci-fi to be real beeped and screamed. The noises were horrid. I couldn't understand the screens for shit. This was the first time I found myself blisteringly mad for not paying more attention in class. Somehow I knew that wouldn't have truly helped, but it felt good all the same to direct the rage at something – anything.

I was stuck staring straight ahead like I was wearing blinders. I had been designated to a plastic chair that was too small for a toddler and felt like it would break at any moment. The flimsy curtains did little to block out the blaring streetlights and constant hospital sirens. Just the off putting soundtrack we all needed right now.

"Why is she here, Logan!?"

The adults are trying to be quiet outside the door.

"For God's sake, Diane, she's her mother!"

They're doing a shitty job of it.

It hurt to push myself out of that stupid chair, but that didn't matter. Di-whore was still wailing like a banshee at Mama outside the door. It was far too fucking late to be up, and my eyes hurt by the ferocity of the lights inside the room. Dad was playing martyr, and heaven knows he's not a good actor. People were hurt, my gut felt like I had swallowed daggers, the doctor hadn't even shown up yet, and fuck it all because I can't care.

My frail little brother was stuck in a hospital bed, wired up like some cheap cyborg movie prop.

I stood up from the little plastic chair I had been given. It was too uncomfortable to be in for long anyways, and he was much more important right now. Shuffling awkwardly towards the foot of the bed, I smoothed the covers around his feet before replanting myself there. I stroked his calves through the paper-like sheets; he remained as he was, eyes screwed shut and trembling.

"Davey," I called softly. I tried to be tender but I'm sure I sounded like I was whining, "Dave?"

He didn't answer. He had enough morphine flooding his system to down a horse, never mind a twelve year old boy. I continued to pet his legs through the sheets as hot tears brimmed at my eyes. I pushed them away, palming them as they surfaced. My sisters would never let me hear the end of it if Mama told them I was crying when Davey was alive.

I looked up at his face, and saw him staring back. He squinted, without his glasses he was a blind as a newborn kitten. He swallowed roughly when he realized it was me. Trembling violently under my hands for a moment before calming, he sunk back into the crappy pillow. Staring aimlessly at the ceiling, I watched cautiously as he poked down his arm and grazed his IV. He reeled back from it, flinching in disgusted realization and pinned his arms to the side. He licked his lips with shaking intention.

"Marie," he muttered. His voice was hoarse and broken and all things it shouldn't be.

I gripped onto his calf, harder than I should have. He didn't react. He remained, staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Deep in thought, he swung an arm over to a near desk, haphazardly palming for his glasses.

"Dave, no... here."

I plucked the spectacles kept safely on the rim of my shirt, like a charm, and put them into his blindly searching hands. He nodded, shoving his face into the frames. His hands were far too shaky to work on their own. Finally, he looked me in the eyes, brown to brown, and he understood. I squeezed his leg in comfort.

He spoke, and he sounded like death, "Do that again."

I did.

His face paled and he ghostly nodded to himself. His lips puckered into the shapes of words, but nothing but crackling sounds came out. Then, as sudden as thunder, his head rolled back onto his shoulders and Davey wailed. Fat tears trickled down his cheeks. The sound started low, like a rumble, but as he shoved his back into the mattress, it quickly turned into hysterics.

The room became a blur of people. A nurse appeared by his side attempting to calm him and keep him still as he screamed and thrashed like he was on fire. A hand grabbed my arm and tugged me off the bed and away from him. He saw and sobbed louder, an arm shooting out to catch me. More people rushed in to pin him down.

I didn't realize I had been crying until the tears were so thick my vision was gone. I screamed, my stomach tumbling into my throat. More hands were on me, pulling me into the hallway and away from him. The door slammed in my face. Davey still sobbed, and called for me and Dad.

Mama spun me to face her. Beyond her red curls, I could see the bloodshot eyes. Her arms hurt as they pulled me closer, but I rushed her nonetheless. I smashed myself into her soft body. My cries were muffled by her sweater and breasts. There, I clung to her, and fell into her like she was the only thing left.

I didn't stop crying for a long time, and Mama held me even past that.

...-...-...-...

Summer was nearly over, and the days were slowly becoming cold and greyer. I sat with my sisters in a neighbourhood park. The day was almost gone, pinks and orange swirls dancing across the sky. We sat in accustomed silence. May was on the swing beside mine, picking at her nails and nose. Lee sat in the sand against the swing's structure, and I knew she was staring right through me. She looked pensive, and it didn't go well with her.

I brushed the sand away from my feet. I pulled my legs up and balanced myself in the swing, crossed legged. My legs went numb quickly, but I couldn't care. For a moment, I tried to get momentum going with my body curled into itself. I lasted a few moments before falling backwards off the swing and landing hard on my back into cooling sand.

May chocked on a laugh. Lee looked away.

Suddenly May flung herself back and tumbled out of the swing. She landed, back first beside me in the sand. Doe-eyed, she smiled sincerely. I smiled back, and her face glossed over with glee. She bounded from the sand and tackled Lee in a crushing hug that sent them both rolling through the dirt.

"Lee," she called, shaking our sister's shoulders spasmodically, "I got her to smile! I told you I could."

I pulled myself up from the ground, and started cleaning the sand from my hair as best I could. My sisters looked at me, one hopeful, the other still lost in deep thought. I faked a smile. May threw her arms in the air in happiness; her face twisted in a heated grin. She almost cried as she clambered to her feet.

"Mama will be looking for us," I said, and for the first time Lee looked at me, and not into me like a science project.

...-...-...-...

The day before school started, my sisters and I were back at the park. It was full today, children obviously trying to get in one last day before being stuck back in educational hell. May was content to run around like a toddler, grabbing peeks over at the Eds who were off by themselves working on something. I stayed on the picnic bench, and watched her frolic.

Lee sat beside me. Her body was hunched over her legs. She looked even more wild than usual, her red hair which looked so much like Mama's a tangled mess. Her skin was splotchy was being in the sun so much that day, and she kept her lips pursed as she stared out.

"We should go see what they're doin'."

She nodded her head towards the Eds. Eddy was standing on top of a soapbox crate, screaming illicit promises at everyone walking by. Behind him, Double D and Ed were elbow deep in a tin bucket. I couldn't see what was in it, but judging by Double D's uncomfortable look, it wasn't anything good.

I caught her eyes through her hair as I spoke, "I have to leave."

She frowned and turned back towards where May was dancing with a few dandelions. The fluff swarmed around her like a white storm. She was happy and content.

"You can't leave her. It would break her heart," Lee muttered. There was obviously more before her words than she let on.

"I can't leave him alone. She'll have you."

For a little while, we sat in awful silence. May approached the Ed's hesitantly under the guise of a customer with a shiny quarter. Reluctantly, the handed her a glob from the tin bucket. It looked like mud. She giggled in delight, and left them – far too anxious on her own. She added the mud to her growing pile of dandelion stems, then continued on her way, picking flowers as she twirled barefoot in the grass.

"So that's it then?"

I refused to look at my sister while I spoke, "Dad's coming to get me tomorrow. I'll only be a town over, and we'll see each other – holidays and weekends and-"

"Shuttup, Marie," she hissed, and I recoiled into myself. I hunched over my legs, and stared at the ground. The grass was dying and yellow around the benches feet, "just don't... okay?"

Neither of my sister's saw me leave the next day. May was too busy crying in the backroom. Lee was too busy comforting her. When Mama hugged me goodbye, she felt cold and stiff. I cried, but she couldn't hold me this time, and left me to Dad's arms and beaten up minivan.

They were warm and unfamiliar and felt like home.